Ashes of Raging Water Read online

  I raised my eyebrows.

  Bradley glanced down, blushed and passed a small blow torch over the chunks. He set the torch down, strategically charring the growing section of bone. He rubbed a hand against his pants and extended his hand once more. “Doctor Bradley Sky, junior assistant coroner. What did you pointedly avoid saying your name was?”

  Interestingly astute.

  The filthiness of modern mortals didn’t cause my reluctance to shake his hand. Truth be, I’d lived through much dirtier eras—though current humanity’s trust in new and trendy chemical technologies left them more vulnerable to germs they assumed the chemicals eradicated. I extended my hand, listening for my fingers to mark the boy as a source of the thick taint. “Vitae Illuceo, Mayoral Public Relations Adjunct.”

  He surprised me with the firm grip of an honest man right before he insulted me.

  “Huh, I guessed right. Had you pegged as useless.” Bradley frowned. “Did your parents hate you or teach dead languages or something? Wait, were they sorcerers? Is that why they named you Life Illuminated in Latin?”

  I cleared my throat and forged into the business at hand. “I’ve come regarding an incident at the Howell Mill Humane Society.”

  Bradley rolled his eyes. “Of course you have.”

  His response took me aback. I blinked at him, head canting to one side. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

  “I heard the stories. Government types like you strong arming Gus, insisting he keep quiet about the weird stuff we get down here while calling him delusional in his official record.” Bradley picked up the trollbone knife. “As if anyone with any sense could ignore the truth stabbing them in the eyes.”

  “I know not what you mean, young man. You are the doctor of course, but the Mayor’s office does not want word of a bio-engineered mold causing a public—”

  “Troll.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Troll.” Bradley waved the knife between them. “This is bone. This bone is regrowing flesh, not mold, which stops growing when burned. The bone also seems to be treated by some sort of acid. It’s troll.”

  Astuteness aside, the boy reminded me forcibly of Aquaylae, spouting whatever she believed like there could be no other truth. His being correct only worsened things. A throb behind my eyes beckoned my fingers. I rubbed to bridge of my nose. “How exactly did you come to this fantastical explanation?”

  “Dungeons and Dragons,” Bradley said matter-of-factly. “I had a +9 troll-slaying knife. I sure wish I had one now, if they were real.”

  I took a deep breath and calmly removed a silver cigarette case from my inner pocket. Cracking open the case allowed brilliant light to spill out.

  Bradley leaned in, eyes narrowed at the tiny glowing feather.

  I whispered to the light. “Vilicangelus. Vilicangelus.”

  “Vilicangelus?” Bradley asked. “Overseeing angel?”

  “Vilicangelus,” I finished, snapping the case shut.

  A winged-being appeared in a blinding flare of light.

  “Holy shit, a real archangel!” Bradley said.

  The light faded, revealing a divine phoenix. It shifted shape, rearranging into a younger, almost naked man with sweeping white wings. The wings folded, fading out as clothing faded in once more.

  Light save me, I didn’t think Aether would be replaced until tonight.

  I fear my shock was greater than that of the mortal, or at least he recovered more quickly. I’d called for my old friend and gotten in exchange a counterfeit not much older than Caelum.

  Why in Heaven’s name would they elevate a phoenix not out of his first eon?

  Heat flashed through me.

  If anyone should replace Aether, it should’ve been me.

  “I’ve never met a real archangel before,” Bradley snatched the cigarette case from my fingers, opened it and reached for the feather.

  I took it from him before he could sully Vilicangelus’s feather and bowed to the newcomer—though I did not pay him the same level of deference I might Vilicangelus.

  He hasn’t earned it.

  “Thank Heaven and her Creator for sending you, Summuseraphi of the Divine. May I ask where Vilicangelus might be?”

  “Vitae, right?” A thick accent placed Summuseraphi’s last shield somewhere near Australia. Summuseraphi’s gaze shifted away. “Not great with names.”

  Of course he isn’t, leaving me to make lemonade from unripe lemons. Perhaps his youth will make him more easily persuaded to remove Aquaylae.

  “You are correct, Divine One.”

  Bradley pulled a phone and started circling Summuseraphi. He beamed, whispering excitedly to himself. Summuseraphi’s brows rose. He turned with Bradley, examining the medical examiner with equal interest.

  “Um, yeah, Vilicangelus is dealing with a problem in England. Winter Court is re-enacting the Battle of Five Armies with the tourists starring as the refugees being slaughtered fleeing Dale.”

  The throb returned. I massaged the bridge of my nose. “As you see, we have a difficulty here too.”

  “All right, let’s try this.”

  Summuseraphi reached up and placed his hand on my head.

  Alarm shot through me.

  Try?

  Summuseraphi closed his eyes. “See for me, Vitae, show me true.”

  A surge of energy shocked me. I jerked involuntarily, but Summuseraphi kept his hand in place. A tingle wrapped me like raw cotton, lifting me like a gentle thermal. I seemed to float on the gentle air as morgue events replayed across my thoughts.

  Unease filled me.

  Is he seeing my thoughts as well?

  Summuseraphi withdrew his hand and cocked his head at Bradley who hadn’t stopped filming. “You’re a queer little wafer, aren’t you?”

  “Wafer?” Bradley asked.

  “Never you mind, Mister Sky.” I shook his head, trying to clear the lingering clouds. “If you have no objections, Summuseraphi, I will see to the faerie remains.”

  “Fairy?” Bradley asked.

  Summuseraphi beamed. “Be my guest. This is my first reality edit. I’d rather not have an audience.”

  I focused on my duty, not letting my dismay reach my face. It wasn’t bad enough the young shields under my wings undermined our efforts to control the Sidhe, we’d somehow acquired the greenest divine phoenix in creation.

  I inhaled, seeking the sources of the tainted, sour faerie tang beneath death scent and chemicals. I made my way from source to source, collecting all the evidence which need be destroyed. Once I’d collect all the grendling parts from drawers, I sought more with my eyes closed.

  A moment’s focus allowed me to revert my body from human flesh to swirling crimson essence. Nearby taint tickled the surface of my essence, but I ignored the sensation to maintain focus. Crimson liquid blazed to sudden light, my body becoming a living sea of scarlet and gold energy.

  Fully converted to the energetic plasma of life, my senses came alive under attack from the intangible yet antagonistic auras of faerie creatures. Maintaining plasmic form required my supreme focus, particularly when treading upon solid surfaces without causing them damage. Still, the form allowed me to suss out faerie parts in air-tight bins. I added trollbone weapons and other recovered artifacts to the extensive pile of faerie remains. It seemed the detective that had given Aquaylae such trouble had sent everything from the scene to Basement E for examination.

  Saving me a trip to her precinct.

  In the background, Summuseraphi circled Bradley with his wings extended, mantling the young medical examiner like a hawk might his meal.

  Bathed in Light, the mortal walked backward through several previous hours’ worth of actions. Bradley paused mid step, stood frozen a moment, then resumed forward motion. Around the mortal, Summuseraphi’s projected reality played out like a silent, yet full color film—rewriting Bradley’s life.

  Bradley froze.

  Summuseraphi turned to me. “I think that should do it. Do
you have everything?”

  I examined the dazed junior assistant coroner. “Yes.”

  Summuseraphi approached the pile. He rolled his shoulders, swinging arms back and forth. “Here goes.”

  I fought not to display my inward cringe.

  Summuseraphi’s hands came together with a thunderous clap. Divine fire shot out between them, swirling around the piled objects and burning them to a fine golden ash. Summuseraphi twirled one hand while pulling a small clay pot into creation with the other. The golden dust spiraled up and into the pot.

  He handed it to me, beaming with pride. “For your garden, friend of Vilicangelus.”

  If Summuseraphi had been able to read my thoughts, he gave no outward sign of taking offense to their contents. I offered him a respectful inclination of my head and took the pot. “My thanks, Divine One. Do you need a ride to our meeting?”

  “Sure. Could I drive?”

  A hard throb stabbed the back of my eyes.

  “I’d really appreciate it,” Summuseraphi said. “I don’t get to actually live like a wafer much anymore.”

  I fought to keep my discomfort concealed, leading the way toward the elevators to keep him from seeing my face. I managed to unclench my teeth enough that my words escaped unmarred. “Of course, Divine One, whatever you desire.”

  “Great...oh, damn.”

  I turned to find my new Praefectus in full cringe, shying downward with a placating hand raised toward heaven.

  “Sorry! Sorry.” Summuseraphi relaxed, turning toward me after a smiteless moment. “Sorry, Vitae. I forgot to bring him out of the fugue. You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

  I smiled, inclined my head and exited the morgue.

  I hate letting anyone drive my car.

  7: Queueing the Music

  Quayla

  Caelum’s order kept me cutting, wrapping and preparing arrangements until long after Judith closed the shop on her way out the door. I intended to leave early enough for a shopping trip to replace my clothes, but Judith managed to infuriate an already upset customer. Dealing with the inconsolable woman cost me hours.

  I considered leaving the order unfinished and returning that evening. If things went the way I expected with Dylan, I’d be in no state to do anything beyond cry into my nest. So, I kept at it until the very last bouquet.

  Heading out of DeKalb toward downtown, my speedometer edged over the speed limit. I glanced at the angel for some sign of disapproval. A screech of brakes served as my only warning. I squeezed my brakes and whipped up the quickly-narrowing strip between the offender and another car. The gap closed before I could flow through it. I braked as hard as I could without throwing myself forward over the bars.

  I pushed myself back into a sitting position. My heart careened around inside my chest like a superball.

  The angel on my console wore a self-satisfied smirk.

  “Are you kidding me? You caused an accident to punish me for speeding?”

  The angel’s expression didn’t change.

  “Vindictive pricks! It’s no wonder He doesn’t let you run around creation any more.”

  “Are you in distress, Quayla?” Anima asked.

  I growled.

  “I do not recognize this language.”

  “Fine. I’m fine, Ani, but I’m probably going to be late.”

  “I will inform Vitae.”

  “Stop,” I lurched toward the angel. “Don’t tell Vitae. If by some miracle I make it on time, I don’t want another unearned lecture about tardiness.”

  “Vitae was most displeased that I did not inform him of your actions this morning. He ordered I inform him even when you order me otherwise.”

  “All right, but this morning I was investigating an incursion, something potentially far more dangerous than being stuck in Atlanta traffic.”

  “Very well, I will do as you ask.”

  Gratitude flooded me. “Thank you, Ani.”

  Even at the tail end of rush hour and employing the Jahammer’s ability to slide through clogged roads between cars, crossing Atlanta into the city center enforced a maximum possible speed of twenty miles below the limit. My thumbs tapped the handle grips with barely-restrained frustration. Vitae often complained about their complacency, citing it as evidence that knowledge of faerie in mortal hands could end Creation. At their core though, wafers were good people capable of so much.

  Just wish they didn’t revel in being infuriating.

  By the time I reached the parking decks for our building, the constant thumb pummeling cracked a small split down my handlebars’ grips. The lights above my reserved spot were out, but I parked in the resultant shadows anyway.

  Maybe some misguided wafer will jump me, and I’ll be able to help them see both the error of their ways and just how great a blessing painkillers can be.

  I leapt off of my Jahammer and bolted for the elevator. The doors opened to my call, assaulting my temper with languid, sleepy notes. I turned to the floor controls and cursed.

  “Hold the elevator!” Caelum jogged down a concrete ramp in khakis and a violet shirt, short brown hair waving in the breeze. He flashed me a wide smile and stepped into the elevator—his hair arranging itself neatly.

  Smarmy bastard.

  Don’t get me wrong, Caelum is pretty great. He doesn’t treat me like an invalid and he’s often the first to spout off some distracting comment when Vitae sinks his teeth too far into me.

  “Died?”

  He just has to ask the stupid questions...and he’s not even out of breath.

  I glared.

  Even his questioning expression didn’t distract from his playboy, pretty boy aura, if anything his looks improved. “And why aren’t we moving?”

  “No keycard.”

  Caelum laughed. “Right.”

  He slid a security card from his wallet, held it against the reader and pressed the penthouse button. As the car rose, eyes the grey of a storm-filled sky and glinting with inner lightning slid up and down my body. “Too short to get noticed now so you’re going to lash out with disco?”

  “It’s all I had that fit.” I jabbed the button again and again.

  The elevator continued its ascent.

  “Oh. Why not go shopping?” Caelum asked.

  “Someone put in a really big order for tomorrow.”

  “Great, you’re working on it. Everything ready? This one’s a big one—CEO’s attending.”

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the music.

  “Quayla?”

  “Yes. Your order is ready. Thank you for your business.”

  “Wow, that almost sounded sincere.” Caelum laughed. “Maybe if you dressed more professionally, I’d have taken you seriously.”

  I tapped the elevator door. “This door may save your life, Caelum, if it opens soon.”

  “Ouch, whitewater warning. You do realize Walmart is always open, right?”

  “Yes, Caelum.”

  “Stays open all night for insomniacs, antisocials, dark faerie in need of discount baked goods, and superheroes.” He struck a pose. His smile flickered. “I thought I hacked in and purged all this sleepy time music.”

  “Vitae.”

  Caelum grinned. “Enough said.”

  The elevator doors opened to a marble foyer two stories tall.

  Caelum patted himself, then kissed the doorframe. His words were breathy. “Thank you, you saved my life. We should get together sometime.”

  I rolled my eyes to hide my amusement. “I don’t think the elevator door feels that way about you.”

  Caelum looked taken aback. A moment later his startled expression cleared with a shrug. “Oh well, even the best relationships have their ups and downs.”

  The horrid joke reminded me of Dylan’s sense of humor. My lip quivered.

  Caelum wrapped an arm around me. “I’m sorry, little sister. I was only trying to make you feel better.”

  “Good job,” I sniffed.

  “This is about Dylan? I though
t you told him what you are.”

  I nodded.

  I had died. I’d died doing my duty, but I had no idea how Dylan would react to our relationship’s first encounter with death. Up the stairs, Vitae awaited, ready to whip me for any of a thousand things I’d done that didn’t keep order with his perfect world and the perfect slave he wanted us all to be.

  I was walking into a beating I had to accept quietly. Worse, without a distraction, seeing Dylan that evening—maybe for the last time—consumed my attention.

  The whole world pressed in on me like a garbage compactor. My chest squeezed painfully until I couldn’t breathe let alone speak.

  Caelum’s normally flippant expression sobered. He let out a deep breath. “You’re going to have to brace yourself then. Everything might go fine, but if not, it’s going to hurt.”

  “I love him. He loves me. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

  “It should,” Caelum shook his head, “but sometimes it isn’t.”

  Heat flashed across my skin and a roaring waterfall filled my ears. “What would you know? All your encounters are quick flings and sport sex.”

  Caelum’s jaw tightened. “Because I know. I lived through a similar situation. Shelby and I were inseparable, pieces of the same puzzle...at least until I died.

  “She said everything was all right, that she didn’t mind me as a male instead of a female.” Caelum studied his hands. “That’s the great thing about finding wafers with fluid sexual tastes. An unexpected gender change doesn’t interfere with the love you feel for each other in your hearts. It’s compatible souls that matter.”

  “Right.”

  Caelum pinned his upper lip in his teeth. “Right. That’s how it should be, just...sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes they can’t get over the loss of you even though you’re standing right there.”

  “Caelum? Are you all right?”

  Caelum flashed me a trademark grin that was just so much stage makeup. “I’m fine, and no matter what, you will be too.”

  “Vitae is waiting for you both,” Anima said.

  “How are you, Ani-doll? I’ve been thinking we should program you a boyfriend. A babe like you shouldn’t be singl—” Caelum’s expression filled with horror. “Oh, hells, Quayla...”